


Emetophobia

by Heiri_XQR (XQR)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emetophobia, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, it's not graphic though, not that their relationship is the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:23:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XQR/pseuds/Heiri_XQR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kankri is an emetophobe and Cronus is concerned for his matesprit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emetophobia

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the time between scenes is potentially months.

You sit on a sofa in Cronus’s hive. It’s Cronus’s wriggling day party, something you were not particularly looking forward to. There are too many people here. You wanted it to be a quieter affair. Actually you wanted it to just be the two of you seeing as it was the first time you’d celebrate this day as matesprits. But Cronus had insisted that double figures should be celebrated with as many people as possible. It wasn’t your place to tell him no, so you just had to turn up and endure.

To be honest you had expected it to be a lot worse than it was. You were there when he bought the trolley full of alcohol, trying to persuade him that he didn’t need that much. He promised that he wouldn’t have that much and so far he was living up to that. But that didn’t matter to you. Others were still consuming it at an alarming rate that set you on edge. Yet you were still all having a pretty good time and fun conversations.

  “There’s no way you could do it, KK,” Sollux says.

  “It’s half a cake. Easily done.” Karkat has the cake on a plate in his hands, eyeing it up.

  “It’s massive though – we didn’t all exactly have small portions the first time round.”

  “I know, but I also know you want to see me try.” Karkat smirks and picks off one of the chocolate decorations, slowly placing it on his tongue. “What do you say, Cronus?”

You flick your eyes to the troll beside you. He’s smiling as he gives your dancestor the go ahead. Something tells you this won’t end well. You roll your eyes as Karkat acts like a savage, using only his hands to start pulling the cake apart and stuffing it into his mouth.

Everyone goes back to talking, knowing that it will take a while for the cake to disappear. Cronus turns back to Porrim who was trying to convince him that his fashion sense was out-dated. You listen in, but say nothing; you like the way he dresses and you wouldn’t change it. Porrim helped you with your outfit today, but only because she turned up a few hours early and told you you couldn’t wear one of your regular sweaters to such a gathering. So you sat in your chest-high trousers and matching waistcoat. She wasn’t particularly pleased and complained that your wardrobe was severely lacking, but you assured her that it was only because you didn’t keep many clothes at Cronus’s, despite the fact you stayed there for at least half the week.

  “Come on, KK!”

You turn around when others join Sollux in egging him on. The amount of cake left is surprisingly little and Karkat sits there with another handful ready.

  “Give me a minute,” he mumbles, mouth still pretty full.

You’re getting ready to run because you can see it in his face. You know that next mouthful isn’t going in and it’s just a question of whether to excuse yourself now or wait for that all so triggering moment.

You watch as he shoves the plate to Sollux and that’s when you get up, leaving silently while everyone’s attention is on your dancestor. You’re ascending the stairs when you hear what you’re expecting, followed by a groan of disgust from everyone else that just confirms that you heard correctly. Suddenly your feet are carrying you upstairs as fast as possible, into the bedroom and into that space between the bed and desk. Your breathing is fast and shallow as you sit there, knees pulled up to your chest. You glance at the window and notice the sunlight around the blind. You _could_ risk going home, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.

_This is okay. I can deal with this._

This was just a case of over-eating. He wasn’t infected or anything. You would be fine as long as he wasn’t near you. And why would he be now that you were up here? This was yours and Cronus’s room; no one came in here.

You concentrate on calming down. Your heart is racing and your palms are sweaty even though you feel cold.

You stay like that for a while. It feels okay to just sit there, unmoving. It’s as if you’re safe as long as you don’t move. It’s a stupid idea, you know, how could anything get you? You’d be better off running with a fear like this.

The door opens and you whip your head around while simultaneously trying to become one with the floor and wall.

  “Kankri?” Cronus calls and he spots you in the darkness you’re sat in. “Kan? What’s up?” He walks in and towards you. No, you’re not ready yet. You don’t want to see anyone. Not even him or Porrim.

You’re as close to the wall as you can be, but you still push into it as he crouches down in front of you, reaching a hand out. Immediately you move the hands clasped around your legs to under your knees.

  “Kan?” You don’t look at him. He places a hand on your knee. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking?”

He doesn’t know. You never told him because he didn’t need to know. This wasn’t meant to be a problem that persisted. You had told yourself you’d get over it before he had to know. You hadn’t even told Porrim. In fact the one person who knew was the one you hated for knowing because he continued to be inconsiderate.

You shake your head and go to speak only to realise your mouth is dry. You clear your throat before trying again. “I just need some time alone. I’ll explain later. Go and enjoy yourself.”

Cronus looks at you with concern. “I don’t think I’m comfortable leaving you like this.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really.” You try to sound as convincing as you can.

Cronus tries to pull you into a hug, but it doesn’t work with the way you’re sitting. “I’ll see you later then.” You can hear the discomfort in his voice. You want to be honest with him, but you really can’t right now. You’re not strong enough.

He leaves the door ajar when he goes. Once you feel you can manage it you get up and close it. Your hands are still shaking when you turn on the husktop and it makes you hate yourself a little more. Instead you focus on trying to relax. You try to read blog posts, but your thoughts won’t stop wandering to what was going on downstairs. Ideally you’d watch something or listen to music, but you know that would make this worse. You _need_ to be able to hear whatever’s going on downstairs. It’s just a low rumble of voices at the moment, but if something happened you would be able to hear. And god you know you don’t want to hear it, but you need to know if it does. You also need to know if someone is coming upstairs. Preparation is everything. You can’t even imagine the kind of fright you’d have if you turned around and saw Karkat standing there without warning.

You decide to play a game online. It involves you controlling a little robotic hoofbeast that continuously runs. The game forces you to concentrate on it and it helps you escape reality with more ease. You hit a key to make the hoofbeast charge into a star and it’s as if you’re taking your frustration out on it.

There’s the sound of someone ascending the stairs. The hoofbeast crashes. You turn around in your chair, listening, waiting.

The doorknob turns and light streams in. You’d left yourself in the darkness and now it was difficult to make out the figure that stood there. Or it would be if you didn’t know that silhouette so well. Messy hair and short nubby horns. Your worst fear is standing in the doorway. You plant your feet on the floor and your hands grip the chair. There isn’t an escape plan; you’re cornered.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” he says.

You keep your eyes trained on him. “Leave.” It isn’t your usual calm tone.

  “Look, I just -”

  “Just go!” Your voice is hoarse; you still haven’t had any water with the kitchen being downstairs.

He looks at you and sees something in your face that makes him close the door quickly. You look like a scared animal that is ready to kill in order to survive. But as soon as the footsteps disappear the façade breaks and you hide your face in your hands, willing yourself not to cry.

_Absolutely pathetic._ You turn back to the husktop and lose yourself in the game once more.

 

Cronus walks in hours later and announces that everyone has left. You have calmed down now and go downstairs to finally grab some water. You tip-toe through the darkness. It’s stupid, you know. There’s no one here to hear you, but you do it anyway, carefully inspecting the kitchen before filling a glass and returning upstairs.

  “So, you gonna tell me what the deal was earlier?” Cronus asked once you had joined him in bed.

You had had enough time to figure out how to dodge the issue. “Sometimes I get really bad headaches.” This was the idea you thought was easiest to use.

  “Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I could have got you something to help.”

You shake your head, glad he’s going along with it. “I didn’t want to have you fussing over me.”

  “Well I spent most of the night worrying about you anyway. It was more difficult not knowing what was wrong.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s never been a problem before with you. I thought that maybe they had stopped.”

  “Have you seen a doctor about them?” He brushes a hand across your head.

  “No. I don’t want to risk getting culled. Or worse.” You’d heard one story about a mutant blood who had gone in to a hospital and never came out. The story went that they had been kept for experimentation when their blood colour was discovered. No one had proof, but it was very suspicious.

  “Well if it keeps happening then I’m taking you to get looked at. And I’ll pay them to not pry.”

You relaxed into the mattress of the human bed you shared. He had bought the lie and you could relax knowing you had dodged the subject for now.

**ooo**

You wake from the dream and the first thing you see is Cronus’s concerned face looking down at you. It frightens you and he sees the fear in your eyes.

  “You alright?”

It takes you a moment to untangle things in your mind. You remember last night as you feel the duvet against your skin; Cronus didn’t go out last night. Not that you were ever here when he did. You made it so that you were always at your own hive when he did.

  “Bad dream,” you tell him. A dream in which you lay in this very bed, listening to those most unmentionable sounds. You were crying into the pillow, trying to block it out. Then the door was about to open. Luckily you woke up and didn’t have to face that.

  “Wanna tell me?”

  “You died.” It was a lie that you had stored away for an occasion such as this. It was one you knew would explain fear on any matesprit’s face.

  “Oh.” He pulls you into a hug. “Well, I’m okay and very much alive.”

  “I’m glad.” You relax into him, relieved that everything was a dream and you could enjoy this moment.

But throughout the day the dream comes back to you, imprinting itself in your memory. It was so real, one of those dreams that didn’t have an odd element to distinguish it from reality. You push it to the back of your mind, hoping that it will be forgotten in a few days. Maybe you’ll forget the details, but you won’t forget that a dream could make you feel so terrible. Why does your own mind torment you?

**ooo**

From across the room you hear Cronus half laugh, half groan. You turn in your chair to see him staring at his husk top.

  “What are you watching?” you ask loud enough do he’ll hear you over his headphones.

He pauses whatever it is. “This guy’s doing the cinnamon challenge _and_ the milk gallon challenge. It’s…wrong, but hilarious.”

You walk over curiously and he pulls the headphones out.

Your eyes and ears are assaulted when he presses play. For a moment all you can do is stare, horrified at the way the troll on screen has lost all control of his stomach. Then you hit the spacebar and try not to look at the shot you’ve paused the video on.

Cronus looks at you questioningly.

  “I’d rather not watch this.” You return to your seat.

But when he presses play the headphones are still out and the sounds fill the room.

  “Cronus!”

He fumbles around with the jack, during which you are subjected to further sounds.

  “Sorry. Forgot about the sound. Is it triggering for you?”

You consider lying, but realise that this isn’t going to be a problem that just goes away. It’s a wonder that you’ve got this close to him and you still haven’t told him something as important as this. You don’t want it to define you, but to an extent it does. There are things you avoid, things you refuse to partake in, all because of this fear. He stopped asking if you wanted a soporific drink months ago. He believes you are focussed on the fact that it’s an unhealthy thing.

  “A little,” you say after a lengthy pause.

He minimises the video. “You seem a bit distressed.”

You figure now is the best time to tell him. Otherwise you’ll continue to put it off until a time comes when he’s the one who triggers you and you won’t be able to tell him why you can’t stay and help.

  “I have a phobia.” It’s hard to admit it. “I’m emetophobic.” It’s hard to tell someone that you fear something that bodies are programmed to do in order to survive.

He struggles to place the word and in the end you tell him, the words almost getting stuck. What comes out of his mouth makes you sigh.

  “Oh, the opposite of emetophilia?” Of course he would have heard of that.

  “Please tell me you’re not into that.”

  “I don’t like to kink-shame, but that shit is gross.”

  “Oh thank god.” You heave a sigh of relief. You’re not sure you could have continued this matespritship knowing he was interested in such things.

You’re not expecting him to say anything, but the short silence grates at you. Is he thinking about it?

  “Anyway, I’m glad we had this conversation.” You force a smile and put on your headphones. It’s time to listen to your favourite song. It has no relevance to this situation, but listening to it always makes you feel like everything will be alright.

**ooo**

Cronus takes you seriously. He doesn’t understand your fear, but he understands that it is a part of you and that sometimes you need him to be your rock.

One day you escape from Porrim’s because you can hear Rose who is still struggling with her alcohol problems (something you hoped she would leave on Earth and not bring with her when she visited). You tell Cronus that you don’t want to talk about it when you return to your hive. He turns up at your door within the hour and holds you tight. You didn’t think you wanted to be near anyone, but you feel safe in his arms, like he will protect you from everything you fear. It makes you cry as you pour your soul out.

You tell him everything.

You’re not entirely sure why you trust him this much, but you do. And now he knows about how much it disgusts you and how it destroys you inside. He knows that you were four and a half sweeps last time you did the unmentionable act. And that you didn’t actually have a phobia back then. No, it was a simple hate back then. Something you didn’t like. He knows that you realised it was a full-fledged phobia only 2 sweeps ago when you were revived and were sharing a hive with Karkat. You laid awake all night unable to control your limbs that wouldn’t stop shaking. He knows that sometimes you dream about these things. You’ll dream about them even if nothing has happened recently.

He kisses your forehead and tells you to stop. He doesn’t want to hear you say that you’re stupid and foolish. He doesn’t want to hear that you once wanted to die. But he listens because you feel he should have the full story now you’ve gone this far. You even pull out your old sketchbook and show him the picture you drew. It depicts you falling from a tall building and lying dead on the ground, a smile on your face. _Trust in my self righteous suicide_ is written on the piece.

He looks at you as if he doesn’t know who you are. This isn’t the Kankri you’ve allowed him to see. This is the one you keep locked inside. You assure him you don’t feel like this anymore. It’s mostly truth, for today at least.

You can see he’s trying to hold back tears when he pulls you close. He whispers to you that everything will be okay. You want to believe him. You really do.

Tears fill your eyes once more because you know that it won’t ever be okay. Not until you no longer fear. No one can be trusted. Not even yourself.

But if he promises to be as careful as you, then maybe you can live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I drew that picture Kankri mentions a few years back. Not that I have shown it to anyone.


End file.
